Goin’ to the chapel and we’re gonna get married.
Goin’ to the chapel and we’re gonna get married.
Gee, I really love you and we’re, gonna get married.
Goin’ to the chapel of love.
Yup. Taking the plunge after nearly 46 years of bachelorhood. Wednesday, September 7, 2011. Around noonish.
Well, ok, we’re not actually going to a chapel. We’re going to the chambers of my favorite local judge. Small, private ceremony. The Druidess will become my lawfully wedded wife. Really not much will change other than us having an official piece of paper, rights of inheritance, etc. We’ve been married in every way but legally since I proposed last New Year’s Eve.
Congratulations! I waited until 44 to make the leap myself, being in a similar situation with ‘Might as well, since we’re married anyway in every other way’.
I knew her before she got elected to the bench, and tried one of the first cases she heard as a newly elected Judge, over a dozen years ago. She’s the finest Judge it’s ever been my privilege to practice in front of during my 16 years of lawyering. I don’t always win in front of her, but she listens to all of the evidence, and will bend over backwards to be fair to all parties. If I tell her I need to be heard, she’ll find a way to fit me in, no matter how crowded her docket may be–not just me, but any lawyer.
In this area, Judges serve a district comprised of several counties. A few years ago, I had a nasty domestic violence case, and I had to file it in the southernmost county of the district. This judge was in the northernmost county of the district that day. I needed an emergency protection order. Called the Judge, she agreed to meet me and the client on her lunch hour, in a third county about halfway between the county where I filed, and the county she was in. She did that, we had the hearing, I got my order, then she went back to the northern county to continue her docket for the day.